


A Different Kind of Anchor

by queenitsy



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Episode Fix-it, Gen, References to Abuse, scott mccall would never
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-01-08
Packaged: 2018-01-07 23:18:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1125555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenitsy/pseuds/queenitsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott struggles with his worst instincts, but he never thought those instincts would be to hurt someone he cares about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Different Kind of Anchor

**Author's Note:**

> No on-screen violence; vague references to Isaac's history of abuse and to the throwing-Isaac-into-the-wall moments in Anchors (3x13). No real spoilers beyond that, though. Essentially a fix-it fic because that was seriously uncool.
> 
> (Kinda-sorta written for the snowflake challenge, day seven: post a fanwork.)

Scott trudged into the house, back bent, eyes barely open. It took him three tries to get the lock open, and he dropped his keys on the table and his bag in the hall without looking up.

At least it smelled like food. The house was mostly dark, since his mom was at work, but Isaac was in the kitchen. Scott took a deep breath and walked in, then said, "Hey."

Isaac jumped about half a mile, even though his senses had to have told him Scott was coming. He was stirring sauce on one of the burners, but he still turned and said, "Hey. How, uh, how was work?"

Scott shrugged. Work had been fine. School had been fine. Nothing had gone wrong. It was just that he had to guard his mind every waking moment, trying to keep his worst instincts at bay. Every little thing made the wolf inside him want to snarl and snap and rend and _kill_ , and he had to fight tooth and nail -- or fang and claw -- just to hold on. Every day felt like an endless, forced march. He could barely keep upright, barely pay attention to anything else. Maybe the darkness in his heart wasn't even the door in his mind, wasn't his worst instincts coming out to play. Maybe it was just this: every day felt both endless and pointless, and all he wanted was to get through it and get to sleep at the end.

"I'm making spaghetti," Isaac said. "If you're hungry."

"Yeah," Scott said. He wasn't, really, but not eating wouldn't solve anything. "Thanks."

"Least I could do," Isaac said.

Scott frowned a little, which made Isaac frown, too.

"Is spaghetti okay?" Isaac's voice was a little tenuous.

"It's fine," Scott said.

"I can make something else."

"No, spaghetti's fine. It's great," Scott assured him. Which… wasn't something he should have to do, because it was just spaghetti, and it wasn't like Scott would complain about someone making him dinner. But Isaac had been twitchy lately, hovering around Scott's peripheral vision whenever he was home. Not coming in to hang out, but not chilling out on his own, either. It was… weird.

"Okay," Isaac said. "Uh, if you want it, grab a strainer -- nah, I got it."

He set the spoon he'd been stirring with aside and reached for the strainer himself, emptied the spaghetti into it, while Scott went to grab two bowls. As Isaac began doling out portions, Scott asked carefully, "How are you?"

"What?" Isaac blinked at him a few times.

"How… I've been kind of caught up, lately, you know, with…" Scott shrugged and sat at the kitchen table. "I haven't been paying much attention or anything. How've you been?"

"Fine," Isaac said quickly.

Except he didn't mean it. Scott didn't intentionally to listen for his heartbeat, but he couldn't help it. He'd always been good at reading people, and Isaac wasn't very good at lying.

"What's wrong?" Scott asked.

"Nothing." Isaac gulped down a bite, not sitting at the table. Just… hovering near the door.

Like he was going to bolt.

_Shit_. Something was really wrong.

"Isaac, man, come on." Scott set his fork down. "You know you can talk to me, right?"

"Scott, nothing is --"

"Even if it's about Allison." It was a stab in the dark, but a well-aimed one, judging by Isaac's flinch.

"I haven't done anything with Allison," Isaac said in a rush.

"I know," Scott said. "It's okay. Even if you did… I mean…" He frowned a little. It _was_ okay. Now that he had his instincts under control, even if it was a struggle, he knew it was fine. He'd only flipped out about it when things had been getting bad, and he hadn't even realized how much stupid stuff was aggravating him yet. If he'd been under control, he never would have --

Never would have _touched_ Isaac.

But now there was an Isaac-shaped dent in the wall outside his room.

_Shit_.

Scott stood up and Isaac's eyes went wide. But Scott just held his hands up, palms out. "Isaac. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Isaac asked. He set his own bowl down on the counter with a clatter, then jumped at the noise. "Scott, nothing's wrong, I didn't do anything, you don't have to do anything, okay?"

"I'm not going to do anything," Scott said. "I wouldn't. I know I… _Fuck_. Isaac, about how mad I was. And jealous."

Isaac looked towards the doorway and Scott forced himself to take a deep breath. He couldn't blame Isaac if he decided to run, because the last time Isaac had tried to talk to him about anything he was feeling, Scott had flipped out and shoved him hard enough to damage the house. Isaac had laughed it off, like they were just friends rough housing, but after everything Isaac had been through, no wonder he was so nervous around Scott now.

"Listen to me," Scott said. "I'm really sorry about pushing you. I shouldn't have done it. I was -- the darkness was -- it's not an excuse." Scott squared his shoulders, even though saying that made him feel heavier. But he wasn't going to hide from the truth. "I'm an alpha, and I'm supposed to take care of you. Not hurt you. I'm sorry."

"I said you could hit me. You didn't do anything wrong," Isaac mumbled, but he still wouldn't meet Scott's eyes.

"Yes, I did," Scott said. "And I get it if you don't trust me, or --"

"I do," Isaac said quickly. "Of course I do, Scott."

Which actually made it worse, somehow, that Isaac still trusted Scott, even after Scott had hurt him. But then again, Isaac still loved his father, even after everything.

"I just don't want you to be mad at me," Isaac added. "About Allison, and… everything. I won't hang out with her if you… if you don't want me to."

Scott sagged in place a little. Part of him, a part that wasn't very kind or mature, really _didn't_ want Isaac with Allison. He still loved her so much it ached and ate at him, but -- but he wanted her to be happy. And he wanted Isaac to be happy. Even if that meant they were happy together, without him.

"If you two like each other, you should be together," Scott said. "I'll be jealous. But I'll deal with it."

"I don't want…"

"It'll be fine, Isaac. It really will," Scott promised. "And no matter what, I'll never hurt you like that again. I promise."

"Okay," Isaac said.

He didn't mean that either. Which hurt, but Scott just sat down and picked his fork back up. He forced himself to smile at Isaac, who finally, hesitantly, sat at the table. He didn't look exactly comfortable, but he didn't make a break for it, either. Which was a start.

It was okay that Isaac didn't believe Scott yet. Scott wasn't sure he deserved it yet. But he'd prove it, over time, just by keeping his word. By being the kind of alpha Isaac deserved, the kind he wanted to be, and not the kind his worst instincts tried to make him. He'd do it because he had to, because it was the right thing. And if he ever needed to remember why, he'd just have to remember Isaac's panicked expression, the hollowness of his voice when he said things were fine.

Scott just had to hope that someday, it really _would_ be fine.


End file.
